


God is Dead and Elvis is Alive

by Cadalie



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-03
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2017-12-25 12:20:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/953020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cadalie/pseuds/Cadalie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Because small town boys don't tie small town girls up like scarecrows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for any bad characterization. Also, chronology probably will not occur.

Lois Lane doesn't know how she should feel about Mrs. Luthor. She knows perfectly well how she does feel, but not how she should feel.  
Clara Kent had married Lex Luthor when she was eighteen years old. The decision had reportedly displeased her father, but he had still given her away at the lavish ceremony.  


If it hadn't been for the Smallville homecoming dance disaster Lois’s cousin Chloe would have been the maid of honor. Instead the bride’s cousin, Kara, had smiled condescendingly at the cameras. Pretty All-American girls, Clara and Kara Kent. Both Kent, even if Jonathan Kent never had a brother.  


The entire story the media was fed seemed odd, but Smallville wouldn't say anything else on the subject. Lois couldn't tell if it was all of the hardships Smallville had gone through or Luthor’s influence, but people kept silent when faced with outsiders.  


Some people liked to claim that Clara Luthor was an inspirational figure, that she was an example of moving on from tragedy in a healthy way. Lois thought that was bullshit. Clara had been spared from a tragedy, yes, but then she married a Luthor; Lois couldn't think of a more unhealthy decision.  


The feminists blogs Lois occasionally looked over mostly believed that Clara Luthor set a bad example for young girls because she had married and had a child before she chose to pursue her degree in English. They usually argued that the amount of media exposure Clara got would glamorize the 50’s life that woman had worked so hard to free themselves from. They also disapproved of Clara’s use of a surrogate to have her son, Conner. They argued that Clara and Lex couldn't have tried very long and that Clara likely just wanted to preserve her figure.  


Lois thought all of that was bullshit too - freedom of choice, and all that.  


Clara Luthor seemed like a typical high society trophy wife. She held charity balls, donated money to animal shelters, and wore accessories that could buy city blocks. It was also possible that Clara was the only thing keeping Lex Luthor sane, sober, and relatively moral.  


Still, Lois remembered the girl Chloe had told her about, and Lois cannot see a hint of the down to earth, thoughtless, brave, and kind Clara Kent who Chloe had loved in the hard, polished diamond that was Clara Luthor.  


Lois wasn't sure how she should feel about Clara Luthor. She will never be entirely sure that she can be objective about her dead cousin’s friend. Still, what Lois feels most when looking at Clara Luthor née Kent is disappointment.


	2. Chapter 2

Clara had been so excited to go to the dance. A little resentful too, because she knew that she had been allowed to buy a new, more expensive dress as an apology for making her return the “Thanks for saving my life and sorry I almost killed you” truck to Lex Luthor, but Clara had still been excited. Had been planning on a fun, perfectly normal high school experience during which she would not have to worry about being a freak.  


“Not much chance of that now,” Clara thought hysterically as she rushed to the phone.  


“911, what is your emergency,” the calm female voice asked. Clara was pretty sure it was Mrs. Reddin. Her daughter Laura was a junior.  


“I’m at the school, at the dance, I don’t know what happened; an ambulance needs to get here now, a helicopter. People are hurt, people are dead,” the words bubble out of Clara, who can barely recognize her own voice.  


“Medical personnel will be there as soon as possible. Can you give me an idea of the situation. Was there a shooting?” Clara can hear the worry under Mrs. Reddin’s soothing tones.  


“No,” Clara chokes out, “no I don’t think there was anything. There’s water on the floor and some people look, look fried. Maybe an electricity thing. I, I just don’t know what to do.”  


“Can I ask who...Who am I speaking to,” Mrs. Reddin sounds more panicked than before.  


“I'm Clara,” she chokes out, “Clara Kent.”  


The EMTs crash through not long after that. They push Clara outside as they start going through the bodies. They don’t bring any of them out. They try to talk to Clara, to ask her questions, but all Clara can do is hold her head to her knees and cry. They take her to the medical center to get treatment for shock in the same ambulance they use for the boy they find lying unconscious outside.  


Half an hour later her parents rush in, sobbing. They hold her for what feels like hours, tracing her face. Making sure that she really is still there.  


“What happened Clara,” they ask when she stops crying, “did something...did something happen with your abilities?” they whisper into her ears.  


Clara bursts into sobs that feel like they’ll tear her body apart and tells them, “I don’t know.”


	3. Chapter 3

Clara finds Kara's attitude amazing sometimes. Clara does not shy away from things, not really, but the knowledge that she could easily destroy everything around her haunts her every move. Johnathan Kent had drilled the knowledge into Clara to the point that caution defined her every move.

Kara doesn't bother with caution. She gives few thoughts to the people around her, to humans and human culture. Kara is Kryptonian in word, in dress, in though. Spending time with Kara makes Clara feel, if not human, entirely Terran. Clara's body may mark her as an alien, but her "normal" is entirely American.

It's terrifying to realize that she is alien even to the aliens. 

Kara condescends where Clara would show respect. Kara acts like an adult, sometimes, like a full grown woman who had a job as a scientist. Kara runs wild in revealing clothes, uncaring of the attention she draws.

Kara is never ashamed of herself.

Clara's father tries to get Kara to calm down; he tells her to use more caution, to hide her abilities better, to act like a proper girl.

Kara doesn't even bother to scoff. She raises an eyebrow and tilts her head, laughter in her eyes. Clara's father reddens before storming off to complain to her mother. He makes rules for Kara - curfews and dress codes; Kara pulls Clara out of bed to run to Luthor Manner. To Lex Luthor.

Kara does as she pleases. She is one of the most powerful people on earth - why should she listen to anyone else. The only people with a chance of standing against her are Clara, her fellow Kryptonian, and Lex Luthor, with his growing collection of Kryptonite. They are the only people who could stop Kara and they are the only people Kara will not fight; the only people she cares about on Earth. 

Clara watches Kara run wild, watches her smile without any hint of guilt, watches her fly.

Two months after Lex delivers Kara to the Kents, Clara pulls Kara out of bed to fly to Luthor Mannor.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follows Chapter 2.

The aftermath was hell. Jonathan Kent disconnected the phone by noon that next day. The Kents had only answered it twice, and they had hung up on the reporters both times; still, the phone kept ringing. Jonathan and Martha had looked at it with a horrified fear etched to their faces. Clara hadn’t bother to take her head off the table.  


When they had arrived at home around one in the morning, Clara had cried, hugged her parents, and begged them to keep everyone away. Martha had hugged back and whispered prayers of thanks that they lived on a farm, that the reporters couldn’t get too close without trespassing. Jonathan had gone to block the driveway with his truck.  


Smallville High lost 55% of its staff, 79% of its student body, and 92% of its football team, if the morning news is to be believed. Sandra Moore, mother of football player Levi Moore, sobs about how grateful she is that her son broke his arm during the game. Coach Walt Arnolds’s widow, Peggy, seems oddly relaxed during her interview once she gets done crying. A freshman named Sara talks about how glad she is her parents didn’t let her go to the dance. The only partygoer who survived, Clara Kent, has not commented, but paramedics confirm that Kent was in shock when they arrived. According to the reports, she likely stepped outside just before it happened.  


The Kents watch a picture of Clara flash on the screen with anticipatory dread. People looking into Clara’s history is the last thing Jonathan and Martha want, and one week later every news station still reports on the Smallville High tragedy. The Kents understand it, somewhat, but they hate it, and more importantly they fear it. Every secret they kept - Clara’s abnormality, the illegal adoption, the spaceship - could come crashing down on them. They could lose everything. They could lose Clara. And it might be Clara’s fault.  


Jonathan and Martha love Clara, and she knows would do anything for her. But now they look at her like she’s something dangerous. Like Clara had killed 79% of the student body. They never willingly leave Clara alone in a room, and they don’t let her go outside.  


“In case of reporters,” Martha says weakly; Clara doesn’t buy it.  


After the news report Jonathan and Martha finally give in and brave the outside world to stock up on food. They don’t ask Clara if she wants to come, and Clara doesn’t ask if she can go.  


“Just stay inside, okay sweetie,” Martha tells her before climbing into the passenger seat. Clara just nods listlessly waiting until they were gone before throwing open the barn door and climbing into her loft. She wants to get away from the television and the family pictures: from the image of her face.  


She doesn’t know how long she sits, throwing her baseball against the wall. When she hears the sound of tires crushing gravel she ignores it; Jonathan and Martha won’t bother her in her “fortress of solitude”, not like Chloe or Pete might have.  


Instead of hearing her parents unloading groceries into the house, though, she hears footsteps come towards the barn door.  


“Clara,” Lex Luthor calls out questioningly. Clara leaves the loft to meet him by the door.  


He doesn’t bother to ask if she’s okay, and she might love him a little for it. Instead, he just stares at her, the same way he stared at her after she had pulled him out of the river.  


“Is it too callous,” Lex asks abruptly, “ to say I’m mostly glad it wasn’t you?” Clara’s responds with an incredulous, choked laugh. Lex keeps watching her.  


“Is there anything I can do,” he asks once Clara’s breathing has finally evened, “I would have asked sooner, but your phone was offline and your driveway was blocked.”  


“And my dad hates you,” Clara adds unthinkingly.  


“And your dad hates me,” Lex agrees coolly before looking at Clara expectantly. She shifts her weight, listens to the dirt scuff under her shoes, and answers, the words coming out in a hysterical jumble.  


“I just….The reporters won’t leave me alone and everyone is talking about me and I can’t even go outside and I keep wanting to talk to Pete and Chloe and then I remember their gone and I can’t talk to mom and dad and what if its my fault,” Clara babbles before, humiliatingly, starting to crying.  


“Your fault,” Lex asks suspiciously before shaking his head, “I think I need to leave before your parents come back, Clara, but don’t worry. I’ll take care of it,” he tells her before walking back to his car. “Call me anytime you need to,” he adds as he slips into the driver’s seat.  


Clara thinks about the things her dad told her about Luthors. About what “take care of it” might mean. Then she thinks about the reporters, about her face on the news, about Chloe and Pete’s funerals and decides that she doesn’t care.  


“Okay,” she says with a water smile and wave before Lex drives off.  


The next morning the top story is about Daniel Lee, spared from the Smallville tragedy because he was strung up on a pole in a field. Clara Kent is not mentioned.  
Jonathan and Martha are warily grateful of the sudden reprieve, and Clara hides the cellphone she finds in the mailbox, Lex Luthor’s number already programmed in.


	5. Chapter 5

The lab is surprisingly warm when Lex and Clara walk in. She wonders if it’s always that way or if it was done as a courtesy for her. A tiny little bribe to go with the diamond necklace and increased Kryptonian research and whatever else Lex is preparing to throw at her. None of these things are really helping.

“You agreed to give genetic material for research, Clara,” Lex reminds her every time she ignores him and whatever he’s brought her. It only makes her angrier. 

“Not like this,” Clara usually spits out, “not like this and not for this.” Lex always looks away after that; leaves and locks himself up in his office. Clara thinks (hopes) he’s plotting against his father, that the next bribe he brings her will be revenge for what Lionel Luthor has done. She knows he’s already taken care of every scientist Lionel was able to bribe. She doesn’t ask how they were taken care of because despite this fiasco she loves Lex. She loves him and she trusts him and doesn’t want to know. When her parents inevitably ask she wants to be able to tell them that truth.  


The scientists flit around them like dragonflies, nervously rushing from place to place. Presumably they’ve realized that Lionel’s desire to help his son and daughter-in-law was not helpful to his son and daughter-in-law. They keep handing Lex different files, but nobody bothers to address Clara until she walks over to window looking into the nursery.

The baby looks tiny. Smaller than anything Clara’s seen on television or in real life. The woman holding him is smiling at him with affection, and it turns into a beam when she looks up and sees Clara watching her. She moves to place the baby in thing that Clara might have called a crib if not for the thousand monitors and cables connected to it. When she sees Clara hasn’t moved she beckons her into the room. Clara goes.

“I’m sorry if I’ve overstepped a boundary,” the woman says immediately when Clara walks in, “it’s just that physical contact is so important when they’re this age.” She keeps beaming at Clara, which makes her realize that this woman has no idea what is going on. Looking at her up close also makes Clara realize that this is the surrogate; her face is thinner and her hair is a subdued brown instead of the vibrant red Clara saw in the pictures but it is undoubtedly the same woman.

“I really wish you had been able to be here for more of the process,” the surrogate says, and Clara realizes that she missed most of what she’s been saying, “But of course Conner’s health comes first.”

“Conner?” Clara asks, and the surrogate flushes to the roots of her hair.

“I’m so sorry,” the surrogate says immediately, “I swear I didn’t mean anything by it. Mr. Luthor always got so annoyed, said he would need to follow tradition and have a name that starts with L, and he’s you’re baby of course. Conner is just a nickname the scientists gave him because…”

“Conner is fine,” Clara interrupts, “I like Conner, I think.”

The surrogate is still bright red and Clara realizes that the surrogate isn’t that much older than she is; she looks 21 at most. Lionel wanted someone who wouldn't know what questions to ask, Clara guesses.

“Would you like to hold him,” she asks Clara tentatively. Clara nods because she can’t think of any other answer that would be acceptable. This is, technically, legally, biologically, her baby.  
The surrogate settles Conner in Clara’s arms gingerly. Clara waits for the rush of love her mother described. The joy of holding her child for the first time, of being a mother. To really, truly know that this is her son.

It doesn’t come.


	6. Chapter 6

Jonathan sighs when he sees how excited Clara is. The truck is nice, though not to his taste. It screams expensive the same way his own truck speaks of hard work and practicality. The truck Luthor sent is new and painted a sleek, shiny blue. Jonathan finds the color almost comforting; it means that Lurhor doesn't know that red is Clara's favorite color. If Luthor had put that much effort into the gift, paid Clara that much attention, Jonathan would be packing up the family to drive to Mexico praying to find a place Luthor couldn't reach.

Not that the idea of just running away from the Luthor problem isn't appealing even though Jonathan knows it would be a stupid idea. When you run you get chased no matter how boring the predator found you before that moment. Better to hold his ground a wait it out.

"Clara, you're going to have to give it back," Jonathan tells Clara. He's prepared for her cry of dismay, but the the almost bewildered look she fixes him with.

"Why," Clara demands and Jonathan knows from the mulish set of her mouth he should get directly to the issue.

"Luthor's are nothing but trouble," Jonathan tells her, "The things Lionel Luthor has done to this town..."

""What's that got to do with Lex?" Clara asks belligerently.

Jonathan sighs as he glances at his watch; he wishes he had the time to explain and make Clara understand why she needs to stay away from any and all Luthors, but Clara and Martha are going into town for a nail appointment before school - mother-daughter bonding and dance preparation, Martha had told him.

Instead of explaining, Jonathan changes tactics. "He was raised by Lionel Luthor, and beside that Lex Luthor has a bad reputation. He is not the sort of person I want you to get involved with because everything he does is going to attract interest; I don't want people gossiping about you."

Clara sighs, clearly unhappy but unable to find a counterargument. The article about the rescue was bad enough; there were more than a few insinuations that she hadn't been just passing by. Jonathan, sensing his reasoning was working, struck the killing blow.

"Why don't you and your mother pick out a new dress for the dance after you get your nails done?" Jonathan asks. Clara immediately beams and throws her arms around Jonathan before running to tell Martha, truck forgotten for the moment.

They don't usually spend money on those sorts of things; can't afford to, really. Maybe if he had Clara helping him with the chores around the farm it would be different, but Jonathan refuses to let her help. He hired some local boys to help him when he needed it and let Martha decide how Clara could help her because no one would think twice about a boy being able to do all the work around a farm, but a girl...it wasn't unheard of, but is was unusual. Abnormal. Clara doesn't need anyone thinking about ways she's different.

He waits until Martha and Clara left out before going back to work, making sure he smiled as he waved his girls off, but his thoughts are on spaceships. Not yet, he decides. We'll wait until this Luthor business has settled down, until Clara has settled into school. They'll tell her when things have calmed down.


End file.
